Visitors to my home have often called me an “inferior decorator”. Not to my face, of course, but as they exmine my creations, they tend to roll their eyes or gasp. Some lift their cell phones to take pictures or call friends to describe the scene, giggling all the while. I don’t mind a little constructive criticism, but giggling is really offensive.
They don’t understand my eclectic style which depends heavily on the current garage sale and flea market inventories. By relying on availble components I sometimes have to blend Pennsylvani Dutch with Art Deco and Victorian, plus a touch of the popular Oscar Madison and Cosmo Kramer creations.
According to our strict household rules, my upstairs setting displays are limited to my tiny office, but I have complete artistic freedom for my creations in the cellar between the furnace and the washing machine. ( Viewings are by appointment only and not on wash days. )
Inspired by Gustav Stickley’s Arts and Crafts movement, I have become a dedicated amateur furniture creator and also consider myself a Jackson Pollock advocate of furniture design. We free-wheeling abstract impressionists observe no boundaries or arbitrary disciplines.
My very first creation was an informal sitting room chair made from Rockaway River and Lake Parsippny drift wood and assorted flotsam.
“What do you think?” I asked my wife. “I was attempting a casual Old Colonial look.”
“Well, you’ve certainly achieved ‘old’ , ” she said. “But you’ve gone way beyond Colonial. I think you’ve acheived Paleolithic. Please explain why your chair has six legs, Dear.”
“You’re very observant, ” I said. “That’s how I solved the stability problem and anyway, why have only four legs when six add more character, especially when all six are unmatched?”
“I have another surprise,” I said. “I’ve also chainsawed the components of a companion side table. If you come back down to the cellar in a couple of hours, I’ll have it all screwed up.”
‘I’m sure you will, Dear.”
Imagine That 